The Poet and The Riddler
by BattKattColourBlak
Summary: Allana Blue is a guard in Arkham Asylum. Every Thursday night, she guards the Riddler. Every Thursday night, they play a game.
1. The Games

**This is a random fanfic idea I got after reading lots of Batman comics. The Riddler has always been my fave (male) villain...him and Scarecrow. So...here ya go. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimation: I no own Batman or the characters. I only own Allana Blue.**

_Once a week, every week, I guard a cell in Arkham._

"Hello, Ms. Blue, welcome back."

_Once a week, every week, I play a game._

"So, who shall start the game tonight, Ms. Blue? You…or I?"

_It's not an entirely dangerous game…_

"I suppose I'll start tonight, then…"

_Except, the one I'm playing with…_

"A man was to be sentenced, and the judge told him, 'You may make a statement. If it is true, I'll sentence you to four years in prison. If it is false, I'll sentence you to six years in prison.' After the man made his statement, the judge decided to let him go free. What did the man say?"

_Is the Riddler._

I sat back and rubbed my temples; this was tricky. Well, it _is_ the Riddler, I suppose….

"Mhm...eh….the man confused the judge, eh?"

"Tut, tut, you _know_ I can't give hints; that is the rule, right?"

The answer hit me so hard I laughed aloud.

"The man told the judge he'd be sentenced for six years, right? So the judge had to set him free or he'd be contradicting himself."

"Good show, Ms. Blue. Your turn now."

_Oh, which should I choose? One of my own? Probably; he knows everything else…ah, I'll give it a shot…no, I'll save it…for now._

"What is broken every time it is spoken?"

_That…was probably too easy for him…_

"Ms. Blue, I'm sad to say I'm a bit disappointed…I was expecting one of I_ your_ riddles…"

"What's the answer, Rid?"

_My superiors would kill me if they new I was on nick-name terms with this one…_

"Simple; it's silence."

"Yep."

"I would like to hear one of yours tonight, Ms. Blue."

"Well, it's your turn, Rid. You know the rules."

I could hear his muffled chuckling through the cell door.

"So it is, Ms. Blue. So it is."

_What'll it be?_

"Which word is the longest English word?"

"Eh? I don't know that!"

"Oh, but you_ do_, Ms. Blue."

"I'm pretty sure I don't."

"It's really quite simple."

"Well, it's a little too simple for me, Rid."

"The word _smiles_, Ms. Blue."

"How is that the longest word in English?"

"Because…you can go a mile between each 's'."

I chuckled.

"That's kinda lame, Rid."

"You can also go miles on a lady's smiles; so sad that I can't see yours."

I nearly choked.

_Was the Riddler…__**flirting**__ with me?_

"My turn again."

_Crap._

"What does man love more than life, fear more than death or mortal strife, what the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire, what misers spend and spendthrifts save, and all men carry to the grave?"

"That's easy! It's nothing."

"Indeed. It's your turn, Ms. Blue. I hope you have something interesting for me."

_Maybe…I'll use that one I was saving…_

"Okay…All alone she sits in her room, forever locked in an open tomb. She wants not a knight but a hero in scales; a photo-negative to a fairy tale. To be free, she needs an answer, something to remove the chains that bind her. So, good sir, answer me this: who is the one she wishes to kiss?"

"Lovely; simply lovely, Ms. Blue."

I beamed internally at the praise. Don't want any cameras seeing me smile.

"What's the answer, Rid?"

"_The Villain._"

"…What?"

"The monster. The antagonist. The demon. The 'bad-guy'. In other words…"

I heard him shuffle closer to the door and saw his strange blue eyes staring out at me.

"The Dragon."

I nodded. He always gets my riddles…well, he _is_ the Riddler…

"Forgive me for pointing this out, but…your riddles are more like lights guiding one to the answer. Riddles should only have very _slight_ indications to what the answer is. The riddles you present me with are more akin to poems."

"Well, I used to write a lot of poetry when I was a kid. I don't write them all that much anymore…"

"Why, Ms. Blue?"

I shrugged. "I really don't have a reason."

"Why are you in Arkham, anyways? Did you wish to prove a point by guarding Gotham City's most dangerous criminals?"

"No…"

"Then why are you here?"

I grimaced. A safe expression for the cameras.

"Because they wouldn't hire me as a cop. Field work is too dangerous for a 'little girl' like me."

"And this is any _less_ dangerous?"

"Guarding you…yes. No offense, but all you have right now are your words, Rid."

"No offense taken. I understand my situation perfectly, and I honestly have no desire of breaking out."

"Really?"

"Really."

He stayed quiet for a while.

"Ms. Blue?"

"Yeah, Rid?"

"You're not from Gotham, are you?"

I shook my head. "Nope; I'm from Massachusetts."

"Why are you here, then?"

…_good question…_

"I guess…I guess I was bored."

"So you came to one of the most dangerous cities in America?"

I shrugged. "I said I was bored, not rational."

I heard him chuckle. "Bored, irrational, witty and intelligent. What other virtues do you have, Ms. Blue?"

I almost blushed. "Too bad you're a criminal, Rid. I might just fall for you."

An eerie giggle drifted from the other side of the hall.

"Little Blue and the Green Man; what a couple."

_The Joker…_

"She likes his company and he loves her poetry; a match made in heaven…heeheehee…"

The only downside of guard duty in this sector…

The Joker had taken a liking to needling me about the Riddler…and the Riddler about me. Luckily, he normally breaks out quite often, so most of the time when I'm here, _he's not_.

"Joker, why don't you hurry up and break out already? Batman's probably missing you…"

Another eerie laugh.

"True, true, Allana Blue. I can't keep ol' Batsy waiting forever…"

The giggling stopped and I sighed. He probably wouldn't bother us again for the rest of the night…

"Do you want to keep playing, Ms. Blue?"

I shook my head. "Not tonight, Rid. Let's just…let's just chat for a little, okay?"

"As you wish, Ms. Blue."

_Those nights were always full of strange conversation…my Thursday nights at Arkham…_

**So that's it. I hope you liked it!**

**~BattyKatt**


	2. The Start

**Just soos ya knows, I'm basing the Riddler in this off of the Riddler from 'The Batman'. He's closest to the original (profile says he's got black hair/blue eyes...how did he become a red-head?) and...he's my favourite...**

**Disclaimation: I no own Batman or related characters...*sigh***

The Riddler wasn't all that bad looking.

At least _he_ didn't think so.

Sure, he was skinny to the point of looking unhealthy, an appearance not helped by his unnaturally pale skin (but when it occurs without aid of chemicals, is it _really_unnatural?). Tall, gaunt, gangly...

His long black hair trialed down about mid-back, but he felt he kept good care of it. Well, it was harder to keep it healthy looking in an asylum, but he felt he'd done a fair job of it.

His lack of muscle would also denote to his malnourished appearance, but hey, he was never really much one for physical exertion.

No, what the Riddler loved the most didn't _need_ physical strength.

Only strength of mind.

Puzzles. Crosswords. Questions.

Riddles.

Ah, more than anything the Riddler loved riddles.

That's why he enjoyed the company of Ms. Blue, the guard stationed outside his cell on Thursdays. She had seen the little note another guard had put up:

_Do not answer any questions!_

So, instead of answering an imaginary question, she asked one:

"Are the guards here really so dull they can't answer a simple riddle?"

That was a challenge if the Riddler ever heard one.

"Imagine you are in a sinking boat and surrounded by sharks. How do you survive?"

To the Riddler's surprise, the woman actually laughed.

"That's easy; stop imagining it!"

That was right.

_And she called it easy?_

"I have one."

_Really?_

"What's black within and red without, and all four corners round about?"

_Simple._

"It's a chimney. Sooty on the inside, red brick on the outside."

The woman nodded. "Yeah, I felt it would make sense to give an easy riddle to you, since you gave an easy one to me."

_Easy?_

Oh, this was _war._

"There was a man stuck in a metal room with a metal door. The door was locked and there were no windows. The following items were inside the room: a piano, table, a saw and a bat. How did the man get out?"

The woman sat in silence for a long while.

_Hah._

"Hah."

_What?_

"I've got it; at least, I think I do. First, he played the piano until he found the right key.  
Second, he sawed the table in half then held the two pieces together. Two halves make a 'whole'. Third, he swung the bat three times. Three strikes, he's out."

…_how?_

"Well, am I right?"

"Yes…"

"Cool! I've got another one, then."

_Another one? This may get interesting…_

"How can you go for forty days without sleep and not be tired?"

_Another easy one…_

"Simple. You sleep the forty nights between each day."

"Oh. Was that one too easy for you?"

_Yes._

"Do you have anything more difficult? You must, if you're asking."

"Well…you tell me one of yours, first."

_This will be interesting._

And so it was.

This was the first meeting, the first game, between Allana B. Blue and Edward Nigma, a.k.a. the Riddler.

**That's all I gots for now. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**~BattyKatt**

**P.S.: I'm running out of riddles to put up...if you have any suggestions, please send 'em to me!**


	3. Harlequin

**I like working on this...3 chapters in less than a week...**

**Disclaimation: I no own...(cries in a corner)**

When I was a kid, I had a habit of getting into trouble.

So, why am I a guard again?

Why would a troublemaker work _for_ the law?

Mostly because I'm a very contrary person.

Partially because I was bored.

_**Friday**_

_8 AM- Wake up_

_8:30- Jog_

_9 AM- Combat exercises_

_9:30- Eat_

_10 AM- Shower/get ready_

_11 AM- Get to work!_

_12 PM-1:30- Guard duty at Arkham (women's sector)_

_1:30-2 PM- Lunch_

_2 PM- 4 PM- Back to work / chat with Harley_

I'd say Harley and I get along. Somewhat.

"So, how'd ya games with tha Riddla go, hun?"

"Eh…"

When I 'guard' this sector, it's normally during the inmates 'free-time', so Harley and I were sitting at a table together…which was sometimes actually encouraged. Something about having a sane person there to help make an insane person sane through osmosis, I guess…

Harley frowned at me. "Didn't go well?"

I shook my head. "No, it went fine, it's just…"

"Did Mista J interrupt you loveboids again?"

I nodded, then my mind fully processed what she'd just said. I sighed.

"It's the same with you sometimes, Harley. It's not like we're an item or anything…"

"Aw, but you two'd be so _cute _togetha!"

I drummed my fingers on the table, bored and slightly irritated. "I chat with him once a week and we play our game. That's it."

"Nothin' deepa?"

"How would I manage that?"

"Love can find a way!" She exclaimed cheerfully. "It always does!"

I sighed again then placed both hands flat on the table. "Harley, I do _not_like the Riddler in that way."

"Ri-ight…but wait, _you _just said you liked 'im, didn't chya?"

"Is that all you heard?" I asked, rubbing my temples.

"Hun, that's all I needed ta hear."

"More like all you wanted to hear…"

Harley sat back in her chair (or tried to; all the furniture in Arkham is welded to the floor).

"Wanted, needed, it makes no difference ta me."

I sighed again. "Gotta say, Harley, sometimes I just prefer my own company..."

"Don't be such a downa, hun. I'm just messin' with ya."

"You and pretty much the whole asylum."

"Well, try ta see it as we see it."

I groaned. "And _how_ do you and the asylum see it?"

Harley leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. "Well...you don't hate 'im."

...

"...and?"

Harley rolled her eyes. I was obviously missing something here...

"_Everybody _hates tha Riddla, hun."

"Everybody, eh?"

She nodded. "Yep."

I sat there, thinking about that. _Did everybody really hate the the Riddler?_

"So..." I started. "Why does everybody hate the Riddler?"

"Well, ta staht...he's obsessed with 'imself, he's a snob, a bit of a know-it-all..." She was ticking off the reasons with her fingers. "He's annoyin', neva shuts up...want me ta keep goin'?"

I shook my head and rubbed my temples. "I think I've heard enough..."

"Maybe you're just more tolerant of 'im than othas. I dunno. But when he's not in 'is cell, he's downright unbearable."

"Is it really that bad...?"

"Do ya really wanna know?"

I shook my head again. "No, not really..."

"Then don' ask, hun."

She glanced over my head at something. "Time ta go soon, hun."

I glanced over my shoulder. It was about a quarter to four; I got off at four.

I stood up. "Nice chatting with you as always, Harley."

She smiled and waved. "See ya Monday, hun."

So I left, spending the majority of my afternoon thinking about my rather odd conversation with Harley, and trying to think of another good reason for why the whole damn asylum thinks of the Riddler and I as an item, and...

Trying to think up a new riddle to use against the Riddler next week.

**Update, two days in a row! You know what's convinient about the DC Universe?**

**There's about a couple thousand different Earths in it.**

**Makes it easy on a fic writer.**

**Thanks for reading; hope you liked it! Review if you want...**

**~BattyKatt**


	4. Idle Time

**This one is a bit short (I'm kind of running out of steam here). I'm going to try to match up the days I publish these with the actual days of the week in the story...so...**

**Disclaimation: I do not own Batman and stuff...**

"Little miss Blue, little miss Blue, sing to the Green man and he'll sing too, little miss Blue…"

Nigma groaned. The Joker was at it again…

"I have a riddle, little miss Blue, give me a poem and I'll share it with you," sang the Joker. "Give me a kiss 'cause I'm so sweet on you, little miss Blue…"

_It can only get worse from here._

"Joker, is life at the asylum boring to you? Singing the same lines over and over; I'd expect something a little more…original."

The Joker's eerie laugh echoed around the hall. "Don't worry _Rid_, I'm only biding my time while I'm here. I'll be out of your greasy hair in no time, don't you worry."

_My hair is __**not **__greasy…_

Nigma tried not to rise to the bait; it was rather tempting, though.

Tempting enough to reconsider not breaking out.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Saturdays are my day off; the only day of the week where I don't have any work at all. Funny how that is; normally Sunday's the day of rest…

Too bad I have no real friends in Gotham.

So what do I do with all this free time?

My Saturday activities are normally centered on sleeping, eating, and trying not to die of boredom.

And maybe a little writing.

No, I don't really write all that often anymore…but sometimes I get so bored with reading or watching TV (and even of sleeping and eating).

The question is…what to write?

_Little girl sitting all alone_

_With nowhere to go she stays at home_

_With no one to call, chat or converse_

_The inactivity is stifling, the silence even worse_

But I'm not a little girl anymore. Not really…but I really have _nothing_ to do…work may be a pain most days, but at least it's something to do…

God, I can't wait 'til tomorrow…

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Free time in Arkham was like…Hell in a box.

That's how the Riddler saw it, anyhow.

If he had a choice he'd stay in his cell the entire day, but _no_, the inmates had to have a chance to walk around, get some sun and exercise.

The less dangerous ones, that is.

"Hello there…"

_Ah, that would be Crane…_

The Riddler sat in his chair and tried to ignore the psychiatrist-turned-psychopath. He was not in the mood.

Unfortunately, Crane had sat down in a chair across from him.

"How was your meeting with Ms. Blue the other night?"

The Riddler sighed.

_Well, at least he doesn't act like the Joker…_

"It went the same as always," he replied succinctly.

"The Joker again?"

_How did he figure that out?_

The Riddler sighed and nodded. "As I said; same as always." He rested his chin on his hand.

"Are you afraid, Nigma?"

_Typical._

"I don't know what you're getting at, Crane."

"Afraid of the Joker breaking out on a day Ms. Blue is here?"

The Riddler grimaced. "I'd be concerned about _any_ guard who's on duty when the Joker decides to break out. I'm sure you remember what happened the last time that he…got bored…"

Crane nodded. "Rather interesting what he did with only a toothpick, a match, and a piece of string…" he murmured. "Ingenious, isn't it…?" Then he sighed. "Those guards never had a chance..."

The Riddler stood up and walked away.

"Wait."

He turned to look at Crane. "What?"

"I'd also be afraid."

_Ah, this is interesting._

"Afraid of what, Crane?"

Crane shifted in his seat. "Not of what, but for _whom_, Nigma."

_Time was ticking and each minute dragged on and on…_

_Just avoid the Joker when he wants to leave and you'll survive…probably…_

**Yes, yes, I know it's short. Like I said, I'm running out of steam (and oh yeah! This chappy is dedicated to DevilsDelusionalMistress, cuz otherwise I wouldn't of done this so soon...)**

**Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed it!**

**~BattyKatt**


	5. A Little Bit Off

**Why hello there, lovelies! I'm terribly sorry for taking so long, but I've had the _worst_ writers' block in the whole wide world! Just terrible! And wow, this chapter looks pretty bad to me. It really does. Do forgive its horribleness. Like Allana, I kind of had a mis-hap with my medicine...and my brain is just a tiny bit fuzzy right now. Not as bad as yesterday, but some of the 'stutters' are typoes I decided to keep...ugh...anywho, enjoy this piece of crap I call a chapter!**

**Disclaimation: If I owned it, it'd be on the Sister Site.**

Another Thursday. Another day of riddles.

So tired. So tired of my days. Only one thing to look forward to.

Only one thing to be thankful for.

Only one person to be thankful for.

_And a deranged sociopath was ruining it._

"Big Green Man and Little Miss Blue," it sang, "Make a cute little Turquoise Baby, why don't you?"

This was worse than normal. I felt my skin itch.

I've been having problems sleeping lately. Over the last few weeks, my medication for sleep had not been coming in. It came in last night.

Ever take sleep meds after a month not taking them? Your body tries to reject them. You don't realize where you are. In other words, you don't sleep.

I think I won't ever take them ever again.

"Ms. Blue?" I heard through the rough cotton fogging my mind. "Are you alright, Ms. Blue? You're off your game."

The Riddler. Edward. Whatever. He can ignore the Joker. I can too, normally, but the meds…they take me away from myself.

"I iswish I was okay, Rid," I stuttered. I stutter normally, but it gets really bad sometimes.

Like when I'm only 5% lucid.

It felt like I was talking around a mouthful of tinsel.

"I would be _such_ a good baby-sitter for the two of you," continued the Joker. I felt like screaming, but was too tired.

"Ms. Blue?"

"I'm sorry, Rid," I murmured. "I'b feeling slow and stupid today. I really am…I'm sorry I didn' bring my best game with me tonight, but I can't even…ach sheise..." Then I chuckled. "Heh, I can swear in German but I can't think straight…what does that say about my head?"

"It sounds as though your thinking is a little muffled. Nothing too bad," he replied.

"Drache, I hope not…" I muttered.

"Was that another curse word?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I just said something that can mean 'Dragon' or 'Draco'."

He chuckled. "You seem to like dragons a lot."

"Yeah, I do." I sat up, feeling a bit more energized now that we were on a favourite subject. "Ever since that movie with Sean Connery voicing one of my favourite Dragons ever."

"And how long has that been?"

"Oh, since I was about…say, 6 years old."

"And have you always been proficient in German?"

I snorted. "I'm not proficient in any language, only just barely English. No, I just know several…eh…'choice'…words in a few languages."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"Eh…I can swear in ten different languages, including Romanian and Finnish…"

I could tell from his pause in speech that he was raising an eyebrow. Or something.

"Eh…I know other phrases and things, jokes and poems, names, how to ask for directions in certain languages…how much I know depends on how much I'm interes-"

"Such an ugly mouth on such a pretty face," sang the Joker. "Oh my, Green Man, what shall you do with her? Shall you discipline her? I daresay you _both _might enjoy that."

I shut my mouth so quickly my teeth hurt. _Why? Why does he do this to us? Why doesn't he just get the HELL out of here already?_

"Asylum life is truly boring for you, isn't it, Joker?" called the Riddler. "No-one for you to have conversations with, so you are compelled to interrupt others'. It must be very sad for you. Are you lonely without Batman to play with? He must be bored without you."

The Joker just seemed to brush this off. "Of course ol' Batsy is lonely without his _favourite_ little playmate. Why wouldn't he be? We're best of friends!" His voice faded slightly. "But that will have to wait…at least for a few more days…or maybe a week…"

The Riddler sighed. "I suppose we won't hear from him for the rest of the night," he said. "But I'm a bit worried. Suppose you take the next Thursday off?"

I looked at his door in surprise. "Why?" I asked.

His odd blue eyes shone through the bars of his cell. "There are very few people out there that can match wits with me. I can only name two off the top of my head, and one of them happens to be the rather pretty young lady sitting outside my cell."

I shifted in my chair. "You're flattering me…and it can't really be that few, right? I mean, the world's a big place, Rid."

"It may be, but I have not really gotten around to appreciating how very large the world really is."

"Ah…"

We sat in the relative silence of the asylum for a moment.

"Rid?"

"Yes, Ms. Blue?"

"Why are you so worried?"

"Too few intellects in the world, or at least Gotham, Ms. Blue."

I snorted. "No, really. Is that your only reason? I mean, I can take proper care of myself; I do martial arts exercises nearly every morning, had just as much training, if not more, as any police officer and guard on the force in Gotham; there's really no need to be worried."

"The last guard was like you."

"What?"

"Not as interesting or intellectual, but strong and well trained. But…no-one is a match for the Joker. Save one man dressed as a bat."

Oh.

The Riddler is worried about me.

"What happened to the last guard?" I found myself asking.

An eerie chuckling floated from the Joker's cell. "Don't worry your greasy littly head, Green Man, _I'll _tell her. Let's see…first…"

I can't. I can't. I can't tell you. It hurts even to remember up to this point. Especially the way he _told_ the story. He explained it with such _relish_.

But I went to work again next Thursday.

I had to.

I had to see the Riddler.


	6. Luxury

**Heeeeeey! I'm sorry this took so long! Here it is (finally)! I hope you enjoy it!**

Once a month, I get taken aside from work for a quick mental evaluation.

Just to make sure the inmates haven't affected me with their psychosis, I suppose.

This month, I was taken aside on a Wednesday. This gave me something other than riddles to talk about on Thursday.

**0o0o0o0**

He imagined himself standing atop the world, all questions answered, all knowledge closer than his fingertips. A world in which there was nothing left to learn.  
It was rather boring, actually.  
"Hey Rid."  
Ah yes. Thursday. The only day he looked forward to these days.  
He heard a chair scrape outside his cell. The girl, Allana. That little wisp of a thing that guarded his cell.  
He was rather glad for that, too. She helped to relieve much of his pent-up boredom.  
If only for a few hours.  
"Hey, guess what I got to do yesterday?" She muttered joylessly. "I had to go get my head examined to see if you've infected me with your psychosis yet."  
He chuckled inwardly at this. She was the only-and he meant only-person in the whole damned asylum that had a civil word for him; who spoke to him as an equal.  
Even if he couldn't see her as such.  
But he couldn't say that. He liked her far too much.  
"Well," he replied. "Have you been sufficiently infected, then?" He heard her chuckle, a sound like that of somebody taking hold of the clap in a bell. Quite unusual, really.  
"Nah," she was saying. "A year in and I've still managed to keep hold of my mind. Must be a new record for the guards."  
He 'tched. "I wouldn't be surprised. Especially for those that have to deal with the Joker."  
He glanced through the slat in his cell door at the cell that had-until quite recently-held the Joker. Allana was quiet for a minute. Then-  
"He killed three people this time."  
Edward nodded. "A small amount for him," he remarked. He leaned his back against his cell door and crossed his arms. She couldn't see him, but he comforted himself with the thought that she would find the pose quite striking if she _could_ see him.  
He heard her sigh. "I don't care that those people are dead." She paused. "Do you think I should be worried about that?"  
This surprised him. "What, you're asking somebody that is clinically insane for an opinion on _your_ mental stability? Maybe you _have_ been 'infected' with my psychosis."  
That was an interesting thought.  
She chuckled again. "Maybe, who knows? I sure as Hell don't, and the higher-ups still find me quite stable."  
Edward chuckled. "Ah, yes, but people such as them are simply far too easy to fool."  
He heard her sigh again. "Thanks. And here I thought that since _they_ were so sure of my sanity that I must be sane. Looks like that hope has hereby been flung out the proverbial window."  
"Would that be such a bad thing?" He replied. "Think it over; you could join me in my madness."  
He saw her shift uncomfortably through the door-slat. He found it quite amusing how she acted when he spoke that way; it showed that she had little to no experience with men speaking to her in such a way.  
She cleared her throat. "As much as I appreciate your offer," she said slowly, "I'd like to keep hold of my sanity for just a _little_ while longer."  
Oh, well. It was worth the shot.

**0o0o0o0**

I plopped down on my bed as soon as I'd gotten home. I dunno why, but it felt like today'd been a very long day...  
I thought about what the Riddler-Edward, Nashton, Nigma, whatever-had said. I couldn't tell him that his offer really _had_ appealed to me. I can't keep track of how many times I've just wished for the simple complexities of insanity.  
I curled up into a little ball.  
That was a luxury I could not afford.


	7. Scary Crows

**Hiya! Sorry that it's been soooo long...I just haven't had the motivation to write anything in the longest time. I'm so sorry! Especially to those of you that've been waiting for a really long time for this! Anyways, here it is! Chapter Seven of The Poet and The Riddler!**

"This morning I got a phone-call from my…boss…"

I heard the Riddler shift in his cell, getting closer to the door. "What about?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Apparently…" I didn't want to talk about this. We should have been having our game tonight, but…

I'd received that damn phone-call.

"Apparently…?" Prompted the Riddler. I sighed.

"Apparently I've been getting a little too 'cozy' with you," I continued. I shifted in my ridiculously uncomfortable chair. "He- my boss- says that they're going to reassign me at the end of the year."

I could see the Riddler's eyes through the slat of his door.

_Eyes of blue peer from sockets of black and purple_

_Painted dark circles on a plane of white_

"Nearly a year and a half into guarding this sector," he began, "and now is when they choose to reassign you? Where is the logic in that?" He scoffed. "It seems as though this 'boss' of yours should get his own head examined…"

I snorted in response. "By who, you?" I grumbled.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance in that area…" called out a whispery voice, making me jump slightly.

Ah, I'd forgotten: The Scarecrow had been moved into this sector only last week. Scared the living crap out of me the first time he spoke.

I tipped back in my chair- tried to tip back in my chair. "Generous as I find that offer, Crane," I called back, "I can't have you running around examining peoples' heads. I'm here to prevent you from doing so, remember?"

People might say I do a bad job, but I've kept the Riddler in his cell for over a year, haven't I?

"But," he returned, "it wasn't all too long ago that I was doing so, and was very popular with…the disturbed…"

I rubbed my temples. "Yeah, I know…" I sighed.

_Break the bond of malcontent_

_Break the mold of innocence_

As much as it irked me to admit (even to myself) I found the history of Scarecrow…fascinating. I do not enjoy talking to him all that much, as he is dodgier than the Riddler most of the time, but hearing the stories about him…it's like sitting around a camp-fire and hearing a well-told ghost story, one that seems to take away the heat of the fire to faraway lands of ice and stone.

Be that as it may, he's quite vexing.

"If you don't mind my asking," continued Crane, "What sort of tests did you undergo in your psychological evaluation?"

I tched. "I'd rather not answer that," I replied. "If you're so interested, why don't you take a look for yourself?"

The dry laughter of both the Riddler and Scarecrow echoed down the hall.

The Riddler was the first to speak. "Ms. Blue," he said between breaths, "Do you know just how entertaining that response was? Telling an inmate of Arkham Asylum to take action on something…" He chuckled. "When some of us are quite capable of escape at any time."

I tried not to smile. "Well then, why don't you?"

"Why, Ms. Blue!" He replied in an overly dramatic tone. "You, a guard, suggesting such a thing?" I heard him place his hands on either side of the small window of his door. "I think I may have to report this to your…superiors…"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, report it to my superiors, the ones that are trading me off to a new position. Sounds like it'll cause quite the stir. Just don't start a riot."

Scarecrow chuckled. "Perhaps…yes…"

I sighed and sat back in my chair, not altogether comfortable with where this discussion was leading itself. I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head lightly. I may have just said something very, very stupid.

I just hoped that I hadn't.

**OoOoO**

Edward paced around the courtyard the next day, deftly avoiding those that typically gave him trouble. He spotted Crane's bespectacled figure, surrounded by a rather large number of inmates.

_*That isn't going to end well…*_

Edward observed as, one by one, the inmates began to tremble, than shake violently, until one of them jumped up, holding his head in his arms as he let out an animalistic howl. One man began to twitch violently as others joined in the howling. Even those that had no idea what was going on or being said joined in, probably to beat away the monotony. He backed away to a wall to avoid the ensuing chaos. As the guards attempted to tame the riot gasses, he noticed that the cause of it had mysteriously vanished. He shrugged it off as he and the other inmates were ushered back to their cells.

_*Whatever he's up to, he won't be able to hide it from me…*_

**OoOoO**

The soft shuffling of paper that night echoed gently down the halls of the captive insane. Edward stared at the ceiling of the cell from his cot and listened as Crane shuffled through whatever files he'd 'found' during the riot earlier that day. Every now and then, something would thunk onto the floor of Crane's cell, and the man would let loose an odd chuckle.

And then, for a while, there was complete silence. Then-

"Mister Riddler, would you like to read _her _file?"

**OoOoO**

_In the mortal realms, the Earth quakes_

_In the night we shiver and shake_

_The sky rains slivers of gold and lead_

_The call of silence raises the dead_

_The might of our minds leaves us broken_

_The wake of insanity leaves us broken._

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_  
_

**~BattyKatt**


	8. This and That

**Hey, look, another chapter! Maybe I'll be able to keep up a good pace with this…Also, thank you to the anon from 6/4; your comment sort of gave me a little…_nudge_…into making this chapter. If not actual inspiration, it gave me a mad fury that filled me until it overflowed onto the page. I hope you all enjoy this little chapter.**

I'm sure that there was many an occasion in which people assumed that I was 'weak', that I was 'helpless'. I'm sure that, at one time or another, this was true. No child starts out being as strong as they are as adults. Contrariwise, and in the same respect, some adults end up being weaker than their child counterparts.

But I am not helpless. I am not weak. Not physically, and not mentally. You can't exactly work on the force of Gotham if you are weak of body or mind.

I fought tooth and nail to get where I am today, against prejudices and insecurities. Because of this, I have few allies, and even fewer friends. But that's just how life is in Gotham.

Even in my darkest moments, I have never needed a savior. I am no damsel in distress that needs a hero.

**0o0o0**

"So, are they letting you go?"

I stared into my iced-tea and sighed. "No, no they're not…just…reassigning me."

The noises of the busy café easily masked the sound of ice clinking as I stirred my tea with a straw.

Selina, my only friend in Gotham (as of yet) tugged at a strand of hair that had escaped her low ponytail. "Love, that's essentially the same thing in Gotham," she explained with an absent wave of her hand. "It's not as if there are many places on the force that you can be assigned to…" she sipped her drink. "…unless you want a desk job."

I literally shuddered at the thought. "Ugh, yeah, that sounds sooo appealing…" I sighed. "Be that as it may, by the end of the year, I am most likely getting either a permanent station in the women's sector of the jail or…"

"…a desk job," finished Selina. I nodded, biting my straw.

"What of the games you play with the man in Green?" She asked.

I almost let my forehead fall to the table, a habit from high-school that I was still trying to work out of my system. "You see, that was probably the whole reason as to why I'm being transferred!" I exclaimed, straw dangling from my mouth. "In fact, I'm _sure_ it is!" I pulled the straw out of my mouth to gesticulate with. "Here, they first tell us to get in close with the inmates, right? Sort of a learn from example kind of thing, but for madmen." She nods, following my straw with her eyes. "Then I'm told, nearly two years later, that I'm not supposed to be as close as I've been." My tone drops to nearly a lazy drawl. "I communicate with the inmates, I listen to them, I give them a conversation worth having at times, I even treat them like, I don't know, _humans_, and I'm sure they appreciate that…God knows they've had little enough treatment like that. So I treat them like people. Some are decent- or sane- enough to do the same to me. All I know is that I've made no obvious enemies in that damned place, an accomplishment that few or no guards in my sector have ever obtained. Hell, the Riddler hasn't even been out of the asylum since I've been working there. BUT as soon as they've decided that I'm 'too cozy' with some super villain or another, they go and give me my notice for the big boot at the end of the year. Gratitude? Appreciation? No, I just think they don't like that I, a woman, have done a halfway decent job at my, well, job." I let out a breath. "Sorry, I just…" I ran my fingers through my bangs. "Gah, I just…needed to rant. Sorry…" I smiled sheepishly at Selina.

She smiled back. "It's perfectly fine, Allana," she reassured me. Then she gave a small laugh. "I think I've told you before that I find your little rants entertaining, didn't I?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah…"

We finished our drinks and she flagged down the waiter. "Just let me know what's going on with your job as it happens, okay?" She said. "I gave you my phone number for a reason, you know."

I rolled my eyes again. "I gotcha…Same time next week?" I stood up to leave, and she gave me a small smile.

"Maybe sooner, love, maybe sooner."

**0o0o0**

Edward sat in his cell, reveling in the rare silence that had overcome his little corner of the Asylum. Crane had escaped the day after the riot, which didn't surprise Edward in the slightest. Before he took his leave, however, Crane gave Edward a little…parting gift of sorts.

Allana B. Blue's file.

He shuffled through about two thirds of the folder, skimming information on her childhood, her family life, etc. How she'd evidently been quite the trouble maker in school, (entertaining) how she had difficulty communicating with straightforward men (interesting), how she apparently viewed the word through a sort of warped and twisted lens (something he'd figured out in his first actual conversation with the woman), and how she seemed more of an escapist that lived in a fantasy world (which was something he'd figured when she spoke so enthusiastically about the draconic beings that she loved so much).

The reasons behind these things.

These were missing.

Sure, there were little tid-bits where she'd told her analyzer about how her father had enjoyed playing puzzle games with Allana, but they were not nearly enough to _explain_ her. The information was incomplete, insufficient, and he wanted to know _more_.

There was a riddle in Allana, and he'd yet to hear all the words of it.

**0o0o0**

***Elsewhere in Gotham City…***

The man commonly known as Scarecrow fiddled with his potions and poisons.

"Just a touch of this-and-that and we may turn this Blue to Black…"

**I love you all.**

**~BattyKatt.**


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